


Sotto Voce

by lockheed_london



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:04:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockheed_london/pseuds/lockheed_london
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin is completely silent during sex, except just before he orgasms, when he lets out a stream of quiet little whimpers and helpless moans. This drives Douglas wild like nothing in his long and varied sexual experience ever has before.</p>
<p>Then he finds out why Martin makes only those noises, and it changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sotto Voce

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for this prompt fill at the Cabin Pressure prompt meme on Dreamwidth: http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/6034.html?thread=10038930#cmt10038930

In retrospect, Douglas blamed the hotel rooms.

Their first time was up against the wall in a grotty little place in Palermo: they had been arguing heatedly and Douglas had had just about enough of the frustration of trying to flirt with Martin – and an oblivious Martin at that – and so he grabbed him and kissed him, hard. Martin had frozen, making Douglas immediately drop his hands in remorse, before seizing Douglas’ shirtfront and kissing him back. Kisses had turned into wandering hands, and open shirtfronts, and from that point on the whole experience devolved into a glut of sensation that Douglas had difficult recalling in its entirety. If Martin had been rather quiet that first time then surely Douglas could be forgiven for not noticing it, given that he was too busy trying to simultaneously kiss Martin breathless and stroke his cock and pat his own pockets for a handkerchief to catch the imminent mess.

The successive times had also been in a series of hotel rooms, tip-toeing into each other’s room after saying their goodnights in front of Carolyn and Arthur and leaving separately. It was then that Douglas noticed how very quiet Martin was during sex, only really making any noise when he was about to come, and even then it was only a flurry of half-swallowed moans and helpless whimpers that Douglas almost couldn’t hear over the sound of his own gasps and stifled groans. If he thought about it at all – which he generally didn’t, being too absorbed in having an armful of loose-limbed, sleepy, post-coital Martin to think much about anything else – then it was only to spare an admiring thought for Martin’s rigid self-control in maintaining their secrecy.

It was only after a few months, when Douglas had exasperatedly offered to _hire_ Martin for the evening if that was what it took to coax Martin round to dinner at his house, that Douglas’ natural curiosity reared its head.

‘I have a detached house, you know,’ he offered, as they were lying in a sweaty, tangled heap in Douglas’ bed, catching their breath after an enthusiastic session during which Martin had given only a couple of small, suppressed whimpers right before he came in Douglas’ mouth. Douglas had been giving it his best shot, no holds barred, and he was perhaps just a touch put out at getting so little in the way of reply. Oh, Martin had grabbed at the sheets and his knees had clamped tight around Douglas’ ribcage and he’d very clearly enjoyed himself, but dammit, Douglas had been looking _forward_ to sex with Martin when they were freed of the constraints imposed by thin walls and he felt… cheated.

‘I know you do.’ Martin dragged open sleep-heavy eyelids to squint at Douglas in puzzlement. ‘I saw when I parked outside. What about it?’

‘Nothing,’ Douglas said, pulling the duvet up over them both. ‘Go to sleep.’

Martin didn’t need the encouragement: his eyelids had already sagged closed again and he turned towards Douglas automatically when Douglas flung an arm over him. Perhaps, Douglas thought, closing his own eyes, some creativity was required.

Over the next few weeks Douglas tried everything he could think of. Watching porn together left Martin red-faced and awkward over his own perceived physical failings, and Douglas’ suggestion of trying restraints in bed made him shy away like a startled horse. But dirty talk made him rake his nails down Douglas’ back while Douglas shagged him, and when he tried a cock ring on Martin then Douglas reached around to find that Martin’s cock felt like steel wrapped in wet silk. That was also the time he came twice in one session: the second time, when Douglas reached his own climax, was no more than a couple of weak spurts, but Martin’s face was deeply flushed and his hairline soaked with sweat. Throughout it all, though, his noises never rose above those maddening tiny whimpers and moans, and even then they only happened when he was right on the edge and desperate for Douglas to tip him over.

Make no mistake, Douglas loved to hear Martin. Admittedly, he was used to slightly more feedback from his partners – ‘Slower’ or ‘Faster’ or ‘Yes, like that’ – and instead he had to rely on Martin’s almost-imperceptible flinches and gasps to learn what worked for him and what didn’t, but it was desperately arousing when the first soft moans started to spill from Martin. They usually spurred Douglas on to even greater exertions, resulting in Martin coming spectacularly and general feelings of sleepy self-satisfaction all round. Nevertheless one evening when he was sprawled between Martin’s thighs, sucking his cock and fingering him in almost total silence, his patience finally broke.

‘You’re allowed to make some noise, you know,’ Douglas said. He’d spent ages kissing Martin and getting him worked up, and had been giving him the slowest, wettest, most intense blowjob he could manage, and still the only sound in the room was the tick of the clock, the slick noises of his mouth and fingers working, and Martin’s heavy breathing.

‘What?’

Martin half-sat up, bracing his elbows beneath him, looking pink-cheeked and slightly dazed.

‘Well, it sounds like I’m the only one in the bed, you’re so quiet.’

Douglas tried his best to keep the tone of his voice light and teasing but didn’t quite succeed: Martin’s flush deepened and he bit his lip.

‘Right. Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise,’ Douglas said; Martin looked chastened, as though Douglas was detailing the errors he’d made during a tricky landing. Except that even that comparison was wrong, because in such circumstances he’d be indignant and defensive, berating Douglas’ lack of regard for safety. Here he just looked… cowed.

‘I just mean,’ Douglas tried again, ‘that it’s nice to know whether you’re enjoying yourself.’

‘Oh, I am,’ Martin exclaimed, reaching down to touch Douglas’ face. ‘I really am, you’re… you’re very good at that.’

_Not that anyone would be able to tell by listening_ , Douglas thought, but he only kissed Martin’s fingers and said ‘Good.’

He turned his attention back to Martin’s cock. He’d softened during their conversation, but Douglas licked a stripe along the top of it and it twitched visibly as Martin gave a loud moan that almost made Douglas jump. It sounded rather forced but Douglas appreciated the effort, and re-doubled his attentions in an attempt to get Martin back to where he’d been before. However, after five more minutes Martin was still only half-hard and had given several more strained noises that eventually made Douglas release his cock and look up at him.

Martin’s eyes were tightly closed, his brow furrowed; he looked less like someone getting a blowjob and more like he was facing a test that he hadn’t studied for, and Douglas knelt back on his heels and put a hand on one of Martin’s bony ankles.

‘Martin,’ he said gently. ‘I don’t think this is going to work, is it?’

Martin opened his eyes and looked at Douglas, face utterly dismayed for a moment before going carefully blank.

‘Oh,’ he said, blinking rapidly several times. ‘No, I suppose… you’re probably right. Um. I’ll just…’

And he tugged his ankle out of Douglas’ grasp, got up, and picked up his pants and jeans from the floor, while Douglas watched in slight puzzlement. If Martin would prefer to have this conversation fully dressed and perhaps over a cup of tea then that was fine, but he looked disproportionately upset at the prospect.

‘So, um,’ Martin fastened his belt and pulled his T-shirt on, and then stood fidgeting, ‘I suppose I’ll just see you at the airfield, then–’

‘Not _us_!’ Douglas all but shouted at him, as comprehension dawned. ‘For Christ’s sake, I didn’t mean _us_ , you young idiot, I just meant this, here and now.’ He waved a hand in the air between them before getting out of bed and going over to Martin. ‘Stop assuming the worst. My God, I’ve never met anyone so pessimistic in my life.’

He pulled Martin into a rough hug before stepping back. ‘Come back to bed, you fool. Here.’ He gripped the hem of Martin’s T-shirt, working it up around his lean waist as a prelude to stripping it off him, but Martin grabbed it also and forced it back down.

‘Please don’t,’ he said, voice nervous and hands skittish, and Douglas let the fabric slip out of his fingers.

‘Come here, then,’ he said, taking Martin’s hand and drawing him over to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘I didn’t mean that I didn’t want you any more, I just wanted to stop you lying there sounding like a terrible oh-nine-hundred phone number.’

‘Er.’ Martin was flushed, and Douglas thought it was from the unflattering description of his attempt at faking it, until he said ‘Please could you, um, put some clothes on?’ Martin’s eyes darted over him in a quick glance, lingering at his groin, before Martin looked back at his knees. ‘You’re… distracting.’

Douglas looked down at himself. He was still half-hard, his body reluctant to completely give up on the idea of sex with Martin, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Martin steal another glance at him and bite his lip.

‘Alright.’ Douglas got up to fetch his dressing gown off the back of the door, and pulled it on before sitting back down on the bed. ‘Look, let’s just forget I said anything. Everyone’s different, and I certainly didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable–’

‘No, you’re right.’ Martin’s hands were clutched tightly together in his lap. ‘I do tend to be a bit quiet. It’s because… well, I… you see, there was this bloke, years ago, and…’ Martin rubbed at his face. ‘Oh God, you’ll laugh.’

‘I won’t,’ Douglas said instantly, not even thinking of hesitating when Martin looked so edgy. ‘I promise. Scout’s honour. Really, Martin, you don’t have to tell me if it bothers you so much, I’m not going to force you.’

‘No, no, I want to,’ Martin said, shoulders hunched and looking as though he wanted anything but. ‘You see…’ He took a deep breath, and Douglas reached over to untangle his hands and clasp one of them. ‘There was this bloke, one of the students in the house.’

‘When was this?’ Douglas asked. ‘Because I’m sure I would have noticed if you’d been getting laid on a regular basis.’

Martin shook his head impatiently. ‘Years ago, before I joined MJN. Douglas, please just… let me tell this. If you ask questions then I’m not sure I’ll have the nerve to finish it.’

‘Okay,’ Douglas said. He almost wished he hadn’t asked; Martin’s grip was squeezing his hand uncomfortably tight, and he looked half-sick with nerves.

Martin took another deep breath, looking determined, but exhaled it on a sigh as he seemed to collapse back into himself.

‘It’s stupid,’ he said.

‘Clearly it’s not,’ Douglas said gently, rubbing a thumb in circles over the back of Martin’s hand. ‘I think people often underestimate the power that old flames still have.’

One side of Martin’s mouth quirked up.

‘Well, I wouldn’t say that he’s an old flame, exactly. But anyway, we were… you know… for a few months.’

‘I think the term is “friends with benefits”,’ Douglas supplied smoothly, and Martin grimaced a little.

‘Well, to be honest we didn’t really spend that much time together when we weren’t… you know. He wasn’t comfortable with people knowing, so he wanted it to be a secret. And then when we were, um, you–’

‘Shagging,’ Douglas said bluntly, unable to listen to another quick, embarrassed ‘you know’. ‘It’s not a crime.’

‘Yes, thank you, I know.’ Martin cleared his throat. ‘So when we were… shagging… we had to be quiet. The walls on my attic are thin, so… well, there you go.’

Martin shrugged, not looking at Douglas.

‘I see,’ Douglas said, beginning to have a nasty suspicion about this bloke who’d seen fit to shag Martin but hadn’t wanted to be seen with him publicly. Just to test it, he asked lightly ‘What about weekends when all your housemates were away? When you’re a student then one of the best parts of those occasional weekends where you get the house to yourself is noisy sex with your partner.’

‘Yes, well.’ Martin shifted a little, still not meeting Douglas’ gaze. ‘He’d just broken up with a long-term girlfriend and I suppose he thought that blokes might be less complicated, but I was the first… and he wasn’t entirely comfortable being with…’ Martin’s voice started to trail off, but he visibly forced himself to finish: ‘Well, my voice. It’s very… masculine.’

‘I _see_ ,’ Douglas said. ‘And I imagine that there were some things he didn’t want to do, is that right?’

Martin nodded.

‘For example, lots of him shagging you and you going down on him, but not so much with the other way around. Yes?’

Martin nodded again, his ears turning red, and burst out: ‘I was stupid, I know, alright? But he was funny, and gorgeous, and always the centre of attention, and I just liked him. Go on, you can laugh.’

‘I told you I wasn’t going to,’ Douglas remonstrated gently. ‘Oh, Martin.’

He could just imagine it: a younger Martin, even shyer and more self-conscious than now, bright-eyed and optimistic about his prospects as a pilot, perhaps not yet worn so thin by trying to make his meagre funds stretch. And so very flattered by the fact that anyone liked him that they could talk him into almost anything.

‘I wish I’d met you when you were younger,’ Douglas said softly, shifting his grip on Martin’s hand to interlace their fingers. ‘I’d have spoilt you rotten.’

‘No, you wouldn’t have.’ Unexpectedly, Martin grinned at him. ‘You’d have hated me. If you think that I’m too stubborn and meticulous _now_ , then you should know that it’s nothing to how I was ten years ago.’

‘Oh God,’ Douglas said. Now that Martin had pointed it out then he could imagine it all too clearly, but he dragged his mind away from it and said determinedly ‘Anyway. The point I was going to make was to remind you that I’ve spent a not-inconsiderable amount of time these past few months with your cock in my mouth, doing my level best to drive you out of your mind.’ Martin looked back at his knees, a wave of pink climbing up his throat from under the collar of his T-shirt, and Douglas continued ‘Furthermore, while you tend to be the one on your back with your knees up around my ears, there have definitely been occasions where the positions have been reversed, and I’ve enjoyed those just as much.’

The flush had reached Martin’s cheeks by now and Douglas shifted a little, allowing the folds of the dressing gown to gape open over his chest. He didn’t miss the small flick of Martin’s eyes to the newly exposed skin, or the way Martin’s tongue darted out to wet his lips.

‘Finally,’ he said, shifting closer to Martin and feeling encouraged when Martin leaned toward him, ‘you do indeed have a very masculine voice. Now I’m sorry about your old partner’s issues and apparent sexual identity crisis – I really am – but I find your voice just as appealing as the rest of you, whether you choose to employ it during sex or not. Do you understand?’

Martin nodded, not looking at Douglas, and bit at his lip before bursting out: ‘I’m not sure I can change, I think it’s habit by now, but I don’t want you to think that I’m not–’

‘Martin, look at me,’ Douglas demanded, and Martin obeyed. ‘Do I look or act like a man who has any hang-ups about sex? Even sex with another man?’

Martin shook his head.

‘Well then,’ Douglas said. ‘You can carry on as you have been doing or become a screamer – although if you’re going to go down that route then I’d appreciate it if you’d restrain yourself when we stay in hotel rooms – it’s all one to me. I’ll admit that I like hearing my partner’s response to whatever I’m doing to them, and think that you might sound particularly wonderful when you’re having sex, but ultimately all that matters is that everyone’s enjoying themselves. Alright?’

Martin nodded again and, at Douglas’ pointed squeeze of his hand, said ‘Alright.’

He looked almost relieved, as though he’d set down a heavy weight that he’d been carrying for a while, and Douglas said ‘Right. Now do you want me to get dressed and we can watch a film or something, or would you like to pick up where we left off?’

‘I’d like to… um… if you’re interested in…’

Martin leaned in, lips parted and looking hungrily at Douglas’ mouth, and Douglas closed the gap between them to kiss him, smiling when Martin’s hand slipped inside the loose front of his dressing gown.

That night Douglas went down on Martin with more success the second time around: Martin still didn’t make a lot of sound but he started to give voice to his pleasure earlier, and when he came his hands tightened in Douglas’ hair and he gave a moan that, for him, was really almost loud.

Habits couldn’t be erased overnight. Douglas suspected that Martin would never be really _noisy_ , but one night several weeks later he paused while fucking Martin to listen to him. Martin’s face was crumpled and he was speaking: a breathless babble of ‘Yes’ and ‘God’ and ‘Douglas, oh God, _Douglas_ ’ falling from him, and Douglas bent his head to taste Martin’s pleas as he started fucking him again. Martin was reduced to moaning quietly against Douglas’ mouth, until he made a sharp noise as wet heat slid between their stomachs and he tightened around Douglas’ cock.

Afterwards Douglas lay with Martin’s drowsing head on his shoulder, his fingers in Martin’s sweat-damp hair as he noted idly that Martin was slightly heavier these days, thanks to several months of regular sex, and home-cooked meals, and physical affection.

_One day_ , he thought, covering the hand that Martin had splayed on his stomach and remembering Martin’s almost anguished little sob as he came, _I’m going to make you_ wail.

**End**


End file.
